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follow up to all the other posts.

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS FAIRY TALES.

…except maybe the original versions where people cut off their feet and shit. Those sound more feasible. 

Homo sapiens …aka, insomniac rant…aka, makes no sense to me either

People fascinate me.

As of late, I’ve been contemplating what about people fascinates me. Besides our capacity to learn and change (“move”), why is it that I find myself caring so much for my fellow human beings? Why do I strive to be such a great friend, even to people I marginally care about? Is it my own humanness? Or is it some other (sub)conscious drive within me?

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Fairytales are good, reality is proving to be better (so far).

The last two entries were written while still basking in the afterglow of a first kiss. One of those amazing, straight out of a romantic comedy first kisses. One that changed everything. I felt every single emotion I tried to eloquently express in those entries. Love was consuming me. But love is illogical, and despite the fact that the very word “illogical” on one that I commonly use to describe myself, I have started to try and be more logical about the situation that has come out of that momentous occasion.

My knight in shining armor has become my cohabiting partner, and we have quickly advanced through the “moving in/moving to a bigger place/adopting pets (no kids here)” phases. This is terrifying. But it’s real, and I stand behind these choices.

Despite the fact that our relationship doesn’t necessarily inspire such fanciful prose, his armor has proved useful, especially in moments of angst on my part…I’m less of a princess and more of a dragon in the winter months here- seasonal affective disorder is not an official diagnosis for me but it may as well be. I tend to hibernate during the day and spend late, insomnia powered nights awake doing weird things, like making homemade english muffins at 2 am. He gets the brunt of my subsequent exhaustion, and thus far has been able to thwart the evil that bubbles up inside of me - even when it puts holes into the walls.

I could say I’m lucky, but I don’t think about love in terms of luck anymore. This could be in complete contradiction to whatever I wrote before, and that is fine. Love is like that. I mean, if it even exists. But that is another post all together…

The Lonely Princess and the Valiant Knight- A Tale of the Discovery and Acceptance of Love- Part 2

Sir Peppers rode up in his metal carriage, something he had just acquired recently. It was beautiful and shiny and new, but in her eyes it didn’t compare with him. She invited him into the castle, and he was quickly accepted by her feline companions (a good sign to the princess’s superstitious mind). They settled in and, over a bottle of scotch, spent the entire night conversing about all manner of things.  Their conversation flowed as easily as their letters, and she found herself surprisingly smitten.

Day broke, and the pair journeyed to the market to procure breakfast and groceries, and after a fanciful trip, they came back to her castle. The knight, being a gentleman (as characteristic of his nature), politely hugged her good bye, then ventured back into the world. She waved as he departed, sighing as she closed the door.
The princess pulled up the drawbridge, and returned to her home, and despite the fact that she had told Sir Peppers that she only wanted friendship, she realized that she wanted more, almost to the point of wishing he wasn’t such a gentleman. She longed to feel his lips brush against hers, but resigned to the fact that it didn’t happen that night and because he was so respectful, the chance may never come again.

Walking into her kitchen, the very place they had started their conversation the night before, she found the opportunity she desired in the form of the bottle of scotch left behind on the counter. She thanked the gods and picked up her communicator, dialing his number. Luckily she caught him before he ventured too far. Upon notice of the forgotten bottle, he came back to the door.

She opened it eagerly. The princess was no ordinary princess, and she wasn’t about to wait for her knight to kiss her. So she grabbed him, and pulling him close their lips met for the first time. Her heart swelled, and her world began to shake. This was something new, something that penetrated her to the core. As she pulled away she knew it was not only the end to a date, but really a beginning to the ultimate adventure that they would start together.

Sir Peppers and the princess parted again, this time with stars in their eyes. As he drove away she looked out the window. She gazed at the puppy-sized squirrels and smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep.

The princess felt at peace for the first time in months, realizing that yes, maybe she did believe in love.

The Lonely Princess and the Valiant Knight- A Tale of the Discovery and Acceptance of Love- Part 1

Once upon a time, in a land filled with squirrels the size of puppy dogs, there lived a surprisingly lonely flaxen haired princess. Despite the fact that her home was filled with marvelous companions of the feline persuasion, she was still alone when it came to human connection.

Sure, there were more than a few suitors that tried to win her heart, even one that seemed to do so for years at a time, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that had penetrated her entire being, right down to the depths of her precious jewel encrusted heart.

Years had passed, and finding herself feeling more alone than ever before, the princess consented to register herself as a member of a virtual match-making community. Although the purpose of the community was to create love matches, she decided that her matchmaker would solely seek out friendship, as she had decided she no longer believed in love.

Anonymous at least by name, if not by photographic representation, the princess filled out the boxes and found herself inundated with mundane messages from depressingly boring, ordinary people. She started to fear that her life would forever be lonesome, and that her only company would be in the form of her cats- until the bitter end.

Then, one day everything changed. She had all but given up on the match-maker when she opened up her virtual world to find a message from a knight from a distant land. She scrolled through his words and found herself intrigued, wanting to know more. And so she penned him a response, hoping to capture his attention as he had hers, and to start a conversation- even if the goal was to be only friends.

Through the magic of virtual letters, the pair exchanged fairy-tales. Some were good, some bad. Many were sad, but there was also an element of hope. Sir Peppers, as he identified himself, was not only a gentleman and a scholar, but a genuinely good and decent person. He expressed himself in words so beautiful, they painted pictures in the princess’s mind. Vivid colors that she had not been able to even recognize for fear of losing her composure, losing herself- and for fear of realizing that love indeed did exist.

But the colors invaded her entire being, and his word pictures enchanted her so much that she decided she wanted to meet the good knight in person. After exchanging the numbers for their personal communication devices, she went out with friends and decided it was time. A phone call later, Sir Peppers agreed to journey to her castle so that they could meet.

The Princess, The Duke and the Mower-Dragon: A Tale of Triumph (also starring a pile of bricks)

Once upon a time there was a stunningly gorgeous flaxen haired princess. She lived alone in a castle that she sustained herself, as she was no ordinary princess. No, she worked hard for everything that she owned, and left nothing to chance. When opportunities arose to better herself, she did this. In fact, she was only princess in name- as dubbed by the now retired King of Plinkoland, His Majesty, Lord Robert William Barker.

One morning she woke up and realized that her palace was not as aesthetically pleasing as was worthy of her own aesthetic qualities, and decided to do something about it. She quickly contacted her good friend, Mr. Fancy Pants himself, Andrew the esteemed Duke of Goodman and Monroe. He came over on his vintage white rolling steed. She was already deep into her work, but was hesitant to attack the barrage of underbrush that had so forcefully overtaken her backyard domain, for this meant she would have to finally tame the monster that lived within her garage. She hated to admit it, but something about the mower-dragon struck fear into her precious, jewel encrusted heart.

She directed Duke Fancy Pants to the lair of the beast and told him to have a go at it. It had been years since she even looked into the eyes of the demon, and despite Fancy Pants’ good natured ribbing, she was still unprepared to try and tame the monster.

And so he ventured forth.

With a flourish he magically roped in the monster and like an overqualified snake charmer, guided its massive jaws over the overgrown vegetation. To her astonishment it took mere minutes to cut the bush down to size, and the beautiful landscaping beneath the insanity finally emerged.

The Duke took the monster, and put it back to sleep until next time. She stood in awe, and felt sheepish because really, she could have done that.

They took a break, and paused to look at the yard in its entirety. A massive oak (or maybe some other kind of tree, she wasn’t a botanist) occupied the right side of the yard. The space in front of it looked barren, and she decided to change that. Sneaking past the sleeping mower-dragon, she found the materials she needed in the form of red bricks slumped in a lifeless pile, sitting in the corner. The princess and the Duke looked at each other and had the same flash of brilliance and immediately started moving the bricks a few at a time towards the oak.

A few minutes later, the bricks were laid out in a sporadic yet structured pattern, and filled the once boring space in front of the tree. A few buckets of dirt later, it was complete, and the yard looked even better than before.

As she surveyed her domain, she felt at peace. The Duke re-emerged from the castle, two bottles of the finest brews in hand. Smiling as the sun went down, they toasted to a fruitful day, and sat down to enjoy their labors.

something had to change

I often wonder why I can’t just be happy without questioning it. I wonder why I’m so perpetually negative and set in my ways. Is it just how I’m wired? To fall into patterns of self-destruction, in the name of trying to “find myself”…to try and be the best person I can be.

I’ve always believed that to rebuild something, you have to destroy something else first (or something like that), but when is the destruction too much? When does it become obvious that nothing will change?

But something always has to change. Everything is always changing. Perpetually. I believe in evolution. I believe in adaptation. I just don’t see myself doing a very good job of it.

Maybe I’m just bored and I don’t like being happy. Maybe I’m so conditioned to live this life as miserably as possible that I can’t accept happiness.

Or maybe I’m right.

complicated bass lines

The appearance of self-assurance she’d been wearing was wearing thin. The truth- everything was exponentially better, but not perfect. Of course, perfection is impossible to attain as it is, but that wasn’t her point.

She still had underlying doubts- even in this new situation, the self-proclaimed “rebirth”.

Was it all fake? It sure felt that way. Everything so contrived, so well thought out. But at the same time not. There really was no way of telling- just living day by day and trying to keep up the best imitation of herself.

Deep breaths. Whether it was reality or false hope-  it’s all she has.

re-emergence

Sometimes it becomes difficult to write. Strangely I find this difficulty now that life has become more “stable”. This overall sense of being content in my life has really wreaked havoc on my creative pursuits- is it impossible to write something “profound” when not inspired by despair? Or perhaps I should write about how grateful I am for the good things in life?

It all seems so contrived. But here I sit, waiting for my dance class, enjoying the sunshine straining through the clouded windows.

I’m ready to re-emerge.